


Closer - [Jean x Tsun!Reader x Marco] - LIME!

by cherrypikkins



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Threesome - F/M/M, Tsunderes, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1534220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrypikkins/pseuds/cherrypikkins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Author's Notes:</b>
</p>
<p>This lime can be read as a standalone fic.  Much like the previously posted lemon fic, readers who want a tie-in to the events of the 'Just Be' series can read the 'optional ending' at the very end.  Also takes place during the final year of training.  Being a lime, this fic contains sexual content (including yaoi) that is milder and less explicit in nature than the lemon.  That said, bear the warnings in mind before you decide to read. Hope you enjoy.</p>
<p>Songstamp: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F014bwnnRo0">[Closer - by Tegan and Sara]</a></p>
<p>Now let's begin... 8D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer - [Jean x Tsun!Reader x Marco] - LIME!

_..._

_All you think of lately... is getting underneath me._

_All I dream of lately... **is how to get you underneath me.**_

_..._

 

\--- Closer ---  
  
Your pulse raced as the door clicked open. Peering through the crack in the doorway, your eyes darted back and forth, surveying the room within. Hearing no noise and sensing no presence inside, you opened the door a little further. The hinges creaked. Nerves prickling, you held your breath.   
  
Nothing. No one. All was clear. Not a single boy to be found. You allowed the door to swing wide open. Your nervousness faded into smugness, bordering on half-crazed glee. Mischief was serious business, but never before have you had so much _fun_. Of course, that was the sort of thrill that came with the risk of getting caught, and Lord knew what sort of consequences you faced if you fucked this up.  
  
But hey, with the boys all out washing themselves in the baths, the men's dorms were utterly deserted and free for you to explore as you pleased... so long as you didn't take too much of your sweet time. Every nerve in your body was buzzing with excitement. You, the intrepid explorer, were about to go where no girl has ever dared to wander before... All because Ymir bet you half of her dinner for taking on the challenge.  
  
Hey. You were a growing girl. And with Sasha stealing food under your very nose at mealtimes, you had to compensate somehow to keep yourself from starving.  
  
But enough. You had a mission to fulfill. Creeping on tiptoe and glancing furtively over your shoulder, you gave a wicked grin as you closed the door behind you. It shut with barely a sound, leaving you in the relative quiet and privacy of the men's dwellings.   
  
Everything was neater and tidier than you had initially expected. At least for a men's dormitory. Of course you spotted the occasional sock on the floor, as well as a pair of trousers slung carelessly over a chair. Glancing at the table, you noticed that someone had left in the middle of a card game. But still, the beds were all made (except for one, whom you later identified as Connie's) and everyone's clothes were more or less folded neatly in their drawers. It was clear that the boys took care of their personal space and settled themselves in rather nicely. It even felt cozy and homelike in a way.   
  
Curiousity was making your fingers itch. That said, you resisted the urge to touch anything... at least until you got into the bunk beds, all standing in a row, and forming pairs. Each one was labeled with the owner's name, conveniently enough.   
  
With that, you rubbed your hands together and set to work. ...Time to see what sort of goods the gentlemen were hiding under their mattresses! The girls, having heard about it from Ymir, were all dying to find out. You were going to do a little snooping around in their stead.  
  
In a daring fashion, you began delving underneath the mattresses, starting first with one Thomas Wagner from Trost. Nice guy. A bit of a bumbler. Not someone you talked to all that much. Your fingers worked and strained beneath the mattress, searching for anything that felt at all like -   
  
Aha.  
  
You pulled out a suspicious-looking paperback. Eyes lighting with interest, you began flipping through it as you pleased. ... Yeap, this was definitely a 'gentleman's book', alright. And look! Dear Thomas certainly had a thing for buxom, scantily-clad young ladies in fancy lingerie. Something to note for the girls back home. You placed it back carefully under the mattress, exactly as you had found it.  
  
Not bad for a start. A quick search underneath the beds, mattresses, and pillows of other male trainees yielded similar results. Some had nothing at all, the prudes. But little by little, you uncovered their best kept secrets - stashes of books filled to the brim of suggestive imagery that any growing boy would be mortified to have a girl discover. One small part of you felt a somewhat guilty for invading their privacy. But hey, you had a bet to win, and your own curiosity to satisfy.  
  
...Pfft. Who were you kidding? You were regretting absolutely NOTHING.  
  
Some of the illustrations were rather 'generic' so to speak, depicting voluptuous women in all manner of dress and undress, and drawn in provocative poses. That said, it became obvious that a handful of boys had more particular tastes. Apparently, Dazz was a masochist. Nack Tius on the other hand, had a thing for girls wearing the 3D Maneuvering harness... and nothing else. You were tickled pink to see that Franz had nothing but love letters from Hannah under his mattress, all ranging from sweet and cute... to graphic and raunchy.   
  
You paused, then put the letters back right where they came from. Probably for the best that you didn't let Hannah know that you had been snooping in on her letters to Franz!  
  
Poking and prodding around, you also discovered a few secretly-kept items that were considerably more innocent. Apparently, Connie kept no adult paperbacks under his mattress - all you found were a few comical, light-hearted picture books. You grinned. How cute. Maybe a little childish. Then again, this was a sort of thing a youth would read too, wasn't it? And as for the bunk that Armin and Eren shared, you discovered a thick tome filled to the brim of information pertaining to the outside world. You had to admit, it was all fascinating and frightening at the same time. Reading it for a while, you engrossed yourself in illustrations of oceans, forests, deserts, and the wintery permafrost... almost losing track of time in the process.  
  
Breaking out of your trance, you placed the tome back under the mattress and quietly moved on to the next bunk.  
  
...This one was shared by Jean and Marco. Though you had eagerly sifted through the mattresses of the previous soldiers, this time you were diffident as you approached the bunk of your friend and your rival. You felt hesitant. Guilty, even. That's not to say you had any qualms against finding the perfect leverage to make fun of Jean. He would probably just get mad at you and blow off steam for a while. Nothing unusual. Rather, it was Marco whom you were worried about. He trusted you. Believed in your integrity as a friend. What would he say if he caught you snooping? Being a saint, he rarely got angry. But somehow you envisioned Marco wearing the most hurt and guilt-inducing look of abject disappointment, asking you why on earth you would do such a thing. It was enough to make you balk a little. Quite frankly, you would much rather face Jean's bad temper than to see Marco genuinely upset.   
  
...And also, you were terrified of discovering anything that might shatter your image of Marco as being a pure and saintly gentleman, with nothing to hide. You pursed your lips worriedly at the thought. Marco was still a man in all respects, but...  
  
 _Eh... I'll skip that bunk for now,_ you finally decided, smiling uneasily to yourself. _I'll see what Reiner and Bertholdt are hiding, and then I'll mosey back to check underneath Jean's mattress._  
  
Sounded like a plan to you. With that, you climbed the ladder of the bunk bed to the level directly above.  
  
... Bertholdt's bed held nothing of interest to you, but the space underneath Reiner Braun's mattress was packed to the _brim_ with all manner of pornography. Which probably shouldn't have been all that surprising, but still - there was just so much that it made your mind reel a little. Eek! ...And judging from the way some of them looked, it was apparent that Reiner's preferences also swung towards the male side of things.  
  
Your cheeks turned faintly red. By now your mind was already desensitized to the pictures of nude to half-nude women but _this_ was something _different_. And sifting through some of these particular books, they didn't just contain pictures of muscular, able-bodied, bare-chested men posing for the reader. Some of these men were actually... ahem... _doing_ stuff to each other!  
  
You gulped. _Damn_ , Reiner!  
  
Your hands shook. Your breath felt stuck in your chest. This was just so wrong, so embarrassing, and yet...! Somehow, you couldn't stop yourself from looking away. Your eyes widened and your face burned redder each time you flipped through the pages. There were men hugging, men kissing, men stroking each other's chests, men making out, men getting frisky in bed, men who had other men tied up and gagged and blindfolded on the floor...  
  
By the time you snapped out of your trance, even your ears were starting to turn red. What in the world were you doing, immersing yourself in a book like this?! You immediately shook your head to clear it out, but those images were _not leaving your brain._ But what was even more nerve-wracking than the illustrations themselves, was the fact that you weren't at all cringing, or even disdainful of this particular variety of erotic imagery as you thought you'd be.  
  
In fact... you were getting a little excited. The men portrayed were rather good-looking after all, to say the least. And considering the fact that Reiner was into this sort of thing, it made you wonder what sort of things the boys of the 104th Training Regiment got into together, on their own time... when none of the girls were watching. They needed a way to let off their excess tension, after all, and when the standard sessions of 'alone time' didn't do it for them...   
  
...Your imagination ran wild, causing you to flinch at these highly inappropriate thoughts.   
  
Feeling mortified with yourself, you were suddenly struck with the urge to smash your head against the wooden bedpost. This was so. Freaking. _WRONG_. These were your very own comrades you were talking about! To imagine them _canoodling_ with each other like that, when you saw them every day, during breakfast, lunch, and dinner ... that was just a whole new level of scandalous. Well, what they didn't know couldn't hurt them, and so long as you kept your fantasies to yourself they would never HAVE to know. But still...!  
  
Your nose was starting to hurt. You winced, pinching it and closing your eyes, doing your best to keep your excitement under wraps. It was safe to say that you've seen your fair share of secrets for today. There was still plenty of time before the boys came back, but it was best not to stick around. With that, you turned your attention back to the mattress...  
  
... You heard footsteps coming up the path, accompanied by a pair of very familiar, and very male-sounding voices. Your nerves froze. Someone was walking up the porch, right towards the building! You could hear them. FUCK.  
  
Panicking, you scrambled to reorganize everything all at once. Damn it, Reiner's mattress was still propped up. That wouldn't do at all! Standing upon the bunk-bed ladder and reaching out with both arms you hauled it down back into the wooden bed frame. It fitted inside with a pop-  
  
...You lost your balance and fell backwards on the ladder. Your foot slipped and you found yourself flying into the open air. Flying, then falling.  
  
WHAM!  
  
With a crash, you tumbled back-first into the floorboards below, right next to the lower bunk that belonged to Jean and Marco. Your body reeled in pain from the impact. Curling up, you clutched your poor sore head and moaned pitifully. Holy freaking OW, did that hurt!   
  
Everything was spinning violently before your eyes, and your head ran wild with dizziness. That was when you heard the click of the door unlocking. Your senses snapped awake once more.   
  
Still on the floor, barely able to move, you looked around wildly for some avenue of escape. There was none. You began hyperventilating. There was absolutely no way you could let yourself get caught like this! The boys would demand an explanation, for sure. Of course, fist-fighting your way through anyone who dared to restrain you was always an option. But given the fact that you might actually get in trouble here, you would much rather exhaust your less violent options first.   
  
The knob was turning. The voices were growing louder and closer. There was no other option. As the door swung open, you rolled underneath the bunk-bed and tucked every limb inside. Your eyes watered. Goddamn, it was dark and dusty as hell in here! And just whose pair of boxers were these?! _Jean's?!_  
  
From the shadows of your hiding place, you saw two pairs of feet, both covered in sleek leather boots, making their way through the door frame and into the building. The wooden boards creaked underneath the tread of their soles. Pressing yourself close to the floor, you bit your tongue, determined to make nary a squeak nor a sound.  
  
The door swung shut, and the lock clicked in place. A familiar drawl filled your ears. Jean Kirschtein sounded as annoyed and cross as ever. "...Still can't believe those _morons_ thought it would be a brilliant plan to see how many men could fit in a single hot tub. Tell me again, Marco, whose idea was it?"  
  
Marco's good-natured voice answered, pleasant as ever. "Reiner, I believe. He made the claim that it was _'for science'_ , but didn't go into any further detail than that."  
  
Listening nervously, you cursed yourself. Fuck. Of all the people you had to risk getting discovered by, in a place like this, it just HAD to be them! You didn't know which was worse - having Jean make fun of you, or running the risk of upsetting Marco. This was sooooo embarrassing, but there was nowhere for you to run! Instead, you remained frozen underneath the bunk-bed, as still as a spooked cat.  
  
But then again, your interest piqued. What was this about cramming all of these men into one hot tub?  
  
With a disdainful sigh, Jean removed his boots, leaving them rather haphazardly on the floor. _Slob,_ you thought, sneering.  
  
"And of course, Connie and the other boys thought it would be the biggest riot ever and _insisted_ on using _our_ tub," he muttered crossly. You heard the rustling of fabric as the two of them removed their jackets. "Damn it. After all the shit they made us go through this week, I was hoping for a bit of alone time. Not a freaking sausage fest."  
  
"Well, it can't be helped," Marco pointed out, laughing weakly. "We're in the military. Everything is communal, so we trainees can't exactly afford much privacy."  
  
"More like we have to put ourselves through the trouble of actually finding it. What a bother," Jean complained, stretching his arms out and cracking his sore neck from side to side. "Ugh. Sorry to drag you out of the baths like that Marco. All of the steam was getting to me. Having those idiots take up all our elbow room didn't help things, either."  
  
"Hey, no worries. All I did was tag along, didn't I?" Marco reassured him, removing his own boots and setting them neatly against the bunk-bed. "...But you're right. Having to wash up in such a crowded place does make it a little inconvenient. For _that_ sort of thing, anyhow."  
  
Perfectly unseen, you blinked in confusion. _What sort of thing?_ You wondered.  
  
Hiding under the bed like some sort of criminal, you were a little nervous about poking your head out further than you had to, fearing discovery. As a result, all you could see was their feet. That said, you continued to watch curiously as Marco meandered closer to his comrade.  
  
"Hey... Jean. You've been a little tense these past few weeks, haven't you?" Marco asked, attentive as ever. "Even now I can see you're a little wound up."  
  
"Hm? Oh, yeah..." Jean answered with a tired sigh. "...To say the least, yes I am."   
  
There was a pause. And then, Marco's voice lowered into a murmur. "Need me to... help you with that?"  
  
You were startled. That was a tone you hadn't heard Marco use before, even in front of Jean. Even so, the copper-blond soldier didn't seem nearly as surprised as you were. Instead, he fell thoughtfully silent, as though considering his options.   
  
And then, he chuckled softly. "Well, now's as good a time as any. For once, I don't see anyone around. ...Do you?"  
  
"Haha... True enough." Marco was grinning. You could tell by the sound of his voice. "Well, then... turn around."  
  
With a smirk, Jean obeyed. The floorboards creaked with each step underneath his feet.   
  
The atmosphere suddenly grew quiet and intimate. You heard the faint rustling of hands moving slowly and sensually across fabric. Your heart pounded. Jean began to sigh with deep contentment. _What in the world was going on?_  
  
Unable to stifle your curiosity, you crawled along the floorboards and drew closer to the light. Peering out from your hiding place, you could see very well that Marco was now massaging his palms and fingers across the back of Jean's shoulders. No wonder Jean was swaying back and forth on the spot, eyes closed and humming like a purring cat. Marco was administering his backrub in a very luxuriant manner, drawing circles and pressing inwards with strong, broad fingers against the overworked muscles of his friend's back.   
  
You held your breath, gripped by the sight. Well, okay. A little odd, but this seemed tame enough. Was this the sort of thing that male comrades tended to do on an ordinary basis? This you couldn't help but wonder. Then again, you were well aware of the fact that Jean and Marco were no ordinary duo of comrades.  
  
You never realized it before, but Jean always behaved a little more gently with Marco than he did with you, or anyone else. Then again, was it really that unusual? You knew from fact and observation that those two were closer than even most best friends tended to be. The two of them were inseparable. Nobody knew them better than they knew each other, and nothing could get in between them.   
  
In all honesty, it made you feel a little envious.   
  
All of a sudden, Jean grimaced, looking a little dissatisfied. "Hey, Marco. These clothes are getting in the way, aren't they?"  
  
"Kind of," Marco replied, smiling weakly. "Here, let me get that upper harness off of you..."  
  
Soon, the air was filled with the sound of metal buckles coming apart, leather sliding against leather, and the whisper of cloth as Jean unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. Your felt your heart jump slightly at the sight of that lean, yet brawny torso exposed in the open air. You would never admit it, but for an insufferable moron, Jean tended to catch your eye in more ways than one...  
  
And admittedly, as a man, Marco wasn't bad-looking either. Far from it, in fact. True enough that he was cheerful-looking and boyish in looks, with that good-natured smile of his. And of course, those trademark freckles of his. He was adorable in his own way, this you always noticed. But that didn't overshadow the fact that he was attractively broad-shouldered and strongly built. And plus, he stood a little taller than Jean.   
  
Jean's shirt fell to the floor, and the loosened straps of his upper harness dangled from the belt sitting at his hips. With that, Marco continued with his massage once more, this time against the bare, warm skin of Jean's muscular shoulders.  
  
To your surprise, Jean turned faintly red behind his smirk. "Hey, Marco. ...It's not fair if I'm the only one taking my clothes off. You're going to let me return the favor, aren't you?"  
  
You found yourself asking the same thing. About the clothes part, at least.  
  
Marco chuckled softly with warm, yet sly affection. "Nice try, Jean. But don't think I'm going to let you take control that easily."  
  
This... This felt a little strange. You felt as though you were intruding on a private moment. Sure, a private moment between _two best friends,_ but something rang highly odd with you here. And clearly, Jean and Marco were behaving on the basis that no one was there to spy on them. If only they had known better.   
  
Jean suddenly gasped, causing _you_ to gasp. He let out an unmistakable moan of pleasure, shoulders twitching. "Mm... Yeah, that's it... Little lower. Oh, God... right there. _Riiiiight there_ , just like that."  
  
You watched with bated breath as Marco leaned in close, hovering over his shoulder from behind while his fingers remained hard at work just underneath Jean's shoulder blades.   
  
"I should've known," he murmured, smiling with satisfaction. "That always seems to be your favourite place, Jean. On that note... Feeling any better?"  
  
"Like you would not believe," Jean drawled, arching his back and smirking back at Marco. "Don't do this to anyone else... alright?"  
  
"...What, not even [First]?" Marco asked, sounding genuinely surprised. His eyebrows were raised in an innocently inquiring manner.  
  
Jean paused, contemplating this. "... Heh." He smiled knowingly. "Maybe I'll let you do it to [First], as a way of being generous. But just once, you hear?"  
  
You were absolutely bewildered by the question. How on earth did _you_ have anything to do with what was going on right now? Although, considering how good Marco was with his fingers, and how infuriatingly blissful Jean looked.... you couldn't help but admit to yourself - you would do absolutely anything to be in Jean's position right now.  
  
Jean let out a groan as Marco hit a sweet spot at his back. "Damn... Marco, your hands are like magic. Did I ever tell you that?"  
  
"Mmhm. Quite a few times before, if I remember correctly," Marco remarked, looking lost in reminiscence. The low tenor of his voice suddenly took a sultry turn. "Want me to just concentrate here? ...or do you need me to have a look at other places as well?"  
  
Jean grinned, fiery mischief in his eyes. "Trust me. I'm willing to go _all sorts of places with_ you, Marco."  
  
...  
  
...Wait, what?  
  
Marco planted his palms on top of Jean's shoulder and spun him around, so that the two of them were facing each other.   
  
"In that case, Jean," he murmured, leaning in as close as ever. "...I know a little somewhere we can go, just the two of us."  
  
"Oh?" Jean inquired with a tone of amusement, and growing interest. "By all means... show me, then. I dare you."  
  
A crooked smile appeared on those freckled features. Marco obliged his friend's challenge... by leaning in and pressing his lips against Jean's, wrapping them up and massaging them sensuously.  
  
Your eyes widened to the edge of their sockets. Your jaw dropped. _Did he just...?!_  
  
With a surge of desire, Jean promptly answered by gripping his wiry hands upon Marco's built shoulders, drawing both men closer and deepening the kiss. Marco smiled wryly at his more fiery counterpart's apparent enthusiasm. He placed his hands against Jean's hips, pulling him nearer so that there was no distance left between them. All the while, their mouths worked and their jaws moved with fervor.  
  
And yes, there were tongues involved.   
  
Your hands flew to your mouth. You were flabbergasted to the core, burning bright red as a beet. To say the least, you could _not_ believe what you were seeing right now! Jean _and Marco!_ Marco _and Jean!_ Your very own Brothers-in-Arms! _Making out like there was no goddamn tomorrow!_ How the hell did _that_ happen?!  
  
Somehow, you couldn't stop yourself from staring.  
  
After a full minute, the impassioned kiss finally broke as both men resurfaced for air. Jean was hot and breathless as he shot Marco a smoldering glare.  
  
"Damn, Marco. When did you outgrow me again?"  
  
Marco's freckled face was likewise flushed crimson with heat, desire and excitement. And yet, his voice remained calmly amused as he gave his answer.  
  
"...I think I've always been the taller one, Jean."  
  
Jean bared his teeth in a sneer, reaching up with deft fingers to undo Marco's leather harness.   
  
"Shut up," he hissed with a grin, undoing the straps one by one and attacking the buttons of Marco's shirt. "You're a goddamn liar."  
  
Within a matter of seconds, Marco too was free of his shirt, rippling from neck to abdomen in thickly built muscle. Both men were shirtless now, and before your very eyes, their bodies clashed together once more. Marco cupped his broad hands against Jean's face, assaulting him with violent, hungry kisses. Meanwhile, Jean's fingers strained against the remaining buckles of Marco's belt and harness...  
  
All this time, they remained completely and happily oblivious to the unwilling spy who was practically hyperventilating underneath their bed.   
  
Both shirts, belonging to both Jean and Marco, were left forgotten on the floor as the two soldiers immediately took their heated affections to the mattress. Their combined weights pressed into the bed frame, causing the wood to creak and groan on top of you. Blood began to rush upwards into your head, making you dizzy and light-headed. This was beyond surreal.  
  
The familiar sound of lips smacking together, accompanied by humming moans and sighs of pure bliss, was louder than ever above you. The two of them were now sucking face on the bed, _while you were still hiding underneath._ Uncomfortable, much? Quite possibly.  
  
Still shocked beyond words, you continued to suppress the urge to shriek with panic. Meanwhile, you heard Jean's voice coming from somewhere on top of you.   
  
"Marco... How far do you want to go today?" It was a serious question, spoken in a breath that was hush with anticipation.  
  
"As far as you want to," Marco murmured playfully. There was more cloth shifting, along with the sound of leather straps coming apart, one-by-one.  
  
"Are you sure about that?" Jean asked, voice low and alluring. "With this much time on our hands, I feel like you and I can take it a few steps farther than last time."  
  
Marco chuckled in a teasing manner. "Be careful what you wish for, Jean. Don't go crying to me if it turns out you can't handle it."  
  
The two of them descended into deep, audible kissing once more. There was the sound of more buckles coming loose, and sure enough... their leather harnesses were dropped carelessly to the floor, right before your very eyes.  
  
Holy. Freaking. Hell.  
  
You covered your red, burning face. This was reaching a whole new level of awkward. Here you were, hiding under the bed, underneath all of the action, and there was absolutely no way for you to escape! And yet, nothing felt more mortifying than to be caught at a time like this...!  
  
The bed-frame suddenly gave a loud creak and sank a few inches closer to your head. You yelped before you could stop yourself-  
  
The movements ceased. Jean spoke first. "Wait... Stop. Did you hear that?"  
  
You were petrified.  
  
"...I ...yes I did," Marco uttered, in a tone of surprise. "Did the mattress just _squeak_?"  
  
There was a pause. Inside your head, you let out a mile-long string of curses.  
  
A heavy weight shuffled overhead. "...Hold on," Jean said. "Let me check underneath the bed."  
  
...- _CrapOhCrapOhCrapOhCrapOhCrap_ \- ...  
  
There was no other way. Your only hope now was to make a beeline like the speed of light at the door - and hope to high heaven that it wasn't locked. As Jean's feet landed on the floorboards, you sprung out from underneath the bed like a cat with its tail run over.  
  
Jean flinched in surprise. "Woah! What the flying fuck...!!"  
  
You didn't even have the time, or the presence of mind, to apologize. Scrambling up to your feet, you sprinted madly towards the door, blind with panic and embarrassment-  
  
Something huge and heavy flew into you, tackling you to the floor. All of the air exploded out of your lungs as you face-planted into the wooden floorboards, pinned down by a shirtless and bare-chested Jean.   
  
"Gotcha, ya lil' varmint!" Jean snarled with triumph. His grin soon faded into a frown of confusion. When he saw who was there, cringing in agony underneath him, his amber eyes widened with shock. "... Wait a minute... It's _you!?_ "  
  
Marco had likewise gotten up off the bed, and was wandering over for a look. He also stared at you with the same look of surprise. "[First]...?! You were there all along?"  
  
Both men were wearing only their trousers.  
  
Stunned out of your wit and usual sharp tongue, you stammered and stuttered and fumbled on your words. "I... I-I...I was...!!"  
  
Jean let you go, leaving you free to climb back to your feet. Feeling light-headed, you stumbled around foolishly and grabbed onto a nearby end-table for support. Jean and Marco continued to stare at you wordlessly, bewildered at the very sight of you. You felt like a complete idiot.  
  
"I'm sorry! Please forgive me!" you burst out, bowing your head down and hiding your shame-filled face. "I didn't mean to intrude! I won't interrupt your special moment any longer! Just forget I was here and go right on doing...whatever you were doing! I'll be leaving now..."  
  
With that, you flew toward the door, determined to finally escape and bury your head in the ground somewhere. Oh God, the humiliation of it all...!  
  
The knob rattled in your grip, but refused to turn. A bead of sweat ran down your face. The door was bolted, and would not budge an inch from its frame.   
  
Well of course they'd lock the door first. **FUCK.**  
  
"Having a little trouble there, Firefly?" Jean grinned, wandering over to lean casually on the door frame, right next to you. You jumped away, back towards the center of the room. There, you nearly crashed into Marco, who steadied you with his hands.   
  
"Whoops! Careful, now."  
  
Your face flushed red at the sight of him, shirt off and standing in uncomfortably close proximity.  
  
Jean followed, eyes following your twitchy movements with amusement. "What's wrong?" he teased. "You look a little flustered. If you want to let Marco know how much you like him with his shirt off, you can tell him yourself. No need to stare at him like a little creeper."  
  
You found absolutely no avenue to snap back at him. He was stating the plain and simple truth - you _were_ staring.  
  
"Who's to say she wasn't staring at you, Jean?" Marco grinned, before tilting his head to gaze at your mildly. "Are you alright, [First]? Sorry we startled you like that." His cheeks turned faintly red against his freckles. "...Though to be honest, it's a little embarrassing to find out that you've been hiding there all this time."  
  
"I'm... I'm _not_ staring, damn it!" you squeaked defensively, backing away from the both of them. "And honest to God, I wasn't trying to listen in or peep in on you guys... I just happened to get stuck in here. It's a long story you see... Oh fuck...!"   
  
You felt as though you might just cry with embarrassment. Desperate now, you pleaded with them. "Please, I'll do anything if you'll just forgive me and forget that I was ever here! Now unlock the door already!"  
  
"...I think not, Firefly." Jean crossed his lean, brawny arms over his chest. He purposefully moved to bar your path to the only exit in sight. "After all, you just got caught breaking in and entering our dorm. We can't just let you go that easily."  
  
You gulped. The air was suddenly stifling. The room was filled with a little more testosterone than you could handle.   
  
"Well, obviously I can't just stay and watch you guys... can I?" You asked, trying to be reasonable. "I mean... that's just so wrong..."   
  
Turning pale at your own words, you shook your head frantically and immediately took that back. "N-not that it's wrong for you guys to be doing that kind of thing! No, really, I don't mind! You guys are totally free to do what you like! I'm not judging at all! It's _me_ that's wrong. I mean... I am the one intruding and peeping in on you guys so shamelessly. I can understand if you're mad..."  
  
You stopped yammering, staring guiltily at the both of them. To your astonishment, neither of them appeared offended to know that you had been hiding around, all this time. Surprised, yes. But not upset.  
  
In fact, Marco simply shrugged and smiled cheerfully. "...I don't mind all that much. Do you, Jean?"   
  
"Nah." Jean shook his head, looking equally nonchalant. Marco leaned a little closer to you, observing the way your cheeks were flushed with a rosy red color. His dark eyes were wide with unnerving curiousity.  
  
"In fact, [First]..." he murmured as you backed away a step. "You look as though you're enjoying yourself, watching us like this. ... Why not stay for a while?"   
  
While you stood there _palpitating_ at the very thought, Marco looked up and gazed at his comrade. "Jean, what do you think?"  
  
Jean grinned wickedly. "Sure. Why the hell not? Might make it all the more exciting if there's someone watching..." He paused, eyes flickering with sudden realization. "Or better yet..."  
  
You knew that look. It was the sort of expression that promised trouble on an apocalyptic scale. You stood there nervously, boxed in by both Jean and Marco with little room to maneuver.  
  
"You're in luck, Marco," Jean drawled, suddenly rolling up behind you and clutching you playfully by the shoulders. You yelped as his wiry fingers gripped you, digging inwards. "You've always wanted to give [First] a bit of special treatment. Now's the perfect chance. What do you think?"  
  
Marco blinked in surprise, then gazed thoughtfully at you. His eyes brightened with piqued interest. "True..." He smiled faintly. "I'd hate to leave her bored and lonely if all she's allowed to do is watch..."   
  
Jean was close. Way too close. You could practically feel the heat radiating from his warm-toned skin. Flustered, you began to stammer, "What? What special treatment? What in the world are you talking about?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know..." Jean's voice was a low and husky murmur in your ear. "A small massage? Or a long one? Or perhaps...a little bit of something more?"  
  
You froze, jaw hanging open.  
  
"Basically, what we're asking, Jean and I..." Marco said kindly, reaching out to twine his hands against yours, fingers gently entangling together. "...is for you to join us." He leaned in until he was almost nose to nose, gazing at you with bright and hopeful expectation. "You'll say yes... won't you?"   
  
His hands were hot against yours. So was Jean's breath against the wing of your ear. The intense heat of this sort of physical closeness was sending you on the verge of breaking into a light sweat. You could sense a powerful yearning and desire emanating from the both of them, to the point where it almost frightened you.  
  
They wanted you to say yes.  
  
Join them? Jean and Marco? Two comrades who just so happened to be closer than you had initially assumed? Right after being caught peeking in on an intimate moment? ...The implications at play here was enough to send prickling sensations throughout every nerve, running along the surface of your skin and everywhere underneath. You swallowed thickly, feeling your heart jump several beats over. Your blood felt hot and burning against the sides of your neck and face.  
  
You couldn't find your voice. The muscles in your throat and neck were shot with tension. You couldn't even manage a stutter, all you did was stand there frozen, trying to comprehend _exactly_ what both Jean and Marco were asking from you.  
  
When you were unable to churn out a response, Marco laughed, light with good humor. "Haha. ...I think we broke her, Jean."  
  
"No kidding," Jean remarked, looking equally entertained as he continued to hold firmly you in place. "In that case... Why don't we help her along with her decision?"  
  
You weren't exactly sure what he meant... until his rough, dexterous fingers crept towards the leather harness that crisscrossed your back. Snapping out of your trance, you gasped sharply, feeling the straps loosen easily with Jean's expertise.  
  
"W-wait, Jean!" You protested, breaking out of his hold and whirling around to face him. You struggled to put up a front by looking indignant, but it fell flat. "Wh-what in the world do you think you're playing at? What makes you think I'd want _any_ part of this at all?"  
  
Jean remained stubbornly fascinated with your harness, this time latching his fingers onto the leather strap that was bound snugly across your chest. "Is that a yes... or a no?" He asked, eyes flickering up to yours. You stared back at him, hypnotized by the flecks of bright gold in his eyes, while the leather strap over your chest popped loose underneath his fingertips. You felt a little more comfortable, yet a little more exposed.  
  
You bit your lip, unable to produce an answer. Was he suggesting that 'this sort of thing' ...was what you _wanted?_  
  
A second pair of firm, strong hands crept playfully up your shoulder blades, startling you. Standing close behind you, Marco began tugging away your jacket, sliding it past your shoulders and down your arms. You felt a little trapped, tangled up in the sleeves of your jacket, stuck between two men who had eyes only for you. There was no way out...and soon, there would be no turning back.  
  
"Don't be so nervous, [First]..." Marco murmured in a soothing voice, extracting the jacket off your form and pulling it out of your reach. "We won't be rough with you, or anything like that. Not unless you ask us to." He smiled at you. "We'll go only as far as you like... So whenever you feel like you've had enough, just say stop."  
  
Marco was as gentle and reassuring as ever, except this time in all of the most perverse and inappropriate ways possible. And yet, his hands wrapped warmly around the curves of your shoulders, holding you close in a manner that was pure in its affection. It was almost loving, in a way. You felt something stir up inside of you, some foreign emotion resembling both warmth and excitement.   
  
Rosier than ever, you turned your head to look at Marco... only to feel your heart skip another beat when he leaned over to plant a chaste kiss, right at the sensitive corner of your lip.  
  
All the while, you felt Jean's fingers wandering up and down your form, slipping in like a thief underneath the harness that bound you so tightly. Little by little, he stripped it away, freeing you. His touch sent strange pulses and signals throughout the nerves of your body. It was much like the feeling of being tickled, but not quite. It was something more tantalizing, more alluring than that. Your breath picked up speed.  
  
Your upper body was free of both jacket and harness. By now, you were slowly starting to register what was about to happen, accepting the fact that this was something you could handle. So long as it was with these two, whom you absolutely trusted...and even liked, to some degree. Maybe you had no reason to worry after all. In fact, you had a feeling that you might wind up enjoying it. Very much so.  
  
And yet, you still harbored your doubts and worries. "I... I don't know about this..." You stammered. "I feel like I might be getting in the way if you two. I had absolutely no idea that the both of you were-"  
  
"What... doing this sort of thing?" Jean asked with a chuckle, kneeling down against the floor to wrestle with the straps that wrapped around your hips and thighs. Your heart pounded even faster. He gave you a crooked grin. "I think you'd be surprised at the things we boys would stoop to, just to have a little bit of release every now and then. I wouldn't go so far as to call Marco and I an 'item'. We're still friends after all. Except..."  
  
"We're friends... with benefits, you mean?" Marco mused, reaching over your shoulders to unfasten the little buttons that held your shirt together. Things were getting unbearably hot, and yet you shivered as your collar opened up, exposing you a little more.  
  
There was a laugh as Marco spoke those words.   
  
"Yeah. Something like that. And when it comes down to it, [First]..." Jean remarked. "What with you ladies being forbidden territory for us..." The waist skirt came loose and fell to the floor with a whisper of cloth. "...we've never really had a chance to experience this sort of thing with a girl."  
  
That... that made sense. Even so, you bit your lip together in a frown. "I see. I guess that makes me a thing of convenience. After all, I'm a girl, and you two happened to find me wandering in here to begin with..." Your face fell in a disappointed expression.  
  
"Not necessarily, [First]," Marco explained, sensing your anxiety at the idea of being used in such a manner. He blushed a little before confessing, "You see....this is not the first time we've considered having you join us."  
  
Your eyes widened. _...Huh?_  
  
A large, calloused hand cupped against your cheek. You felt Marco lean in closer, burrowing his nose into your hair, lips pulling back in a tender smile. "We would never let you know it, of course. But Jean and I would often talk about you from time to time, when there's no one else to hear us."   
  
His broad, muscular arms reached around you, straining for the lower buttons of your shirt.   
  
"As a matter of fact..."  
  
Your shirt now hung loose, and was slowly coming apart. His voice was hot and full of breath against the back of your ear.  
  
"...we've wanted this... with _you_ , more than anything else... for a long, long, while..."

  
His fingers delved underneath your shirt, tasting skin and making your blood rush. You whimpered and tilted your head back against his chest as he hit a sweet spot, causing you to tremble under his touch.  
  
Marco's lips planted into your hair, tickling your scalp with the warmth of his breath. You whispered shakily, "...Why? Why me, though...?"  
  
Jean was not to be forgotten. As your belt was undone and removed, it slid smoothly out of its loops and fell to a clatter against the floorboards.   
  
"Isn't the answer obvious?" he asked incredulously. "Then again, I suppose not, knowing how damn clueless you are..." He smirked. "In that case, we'll just have to show you...and see if you figure it out on your own."  
  
And then, with a feral grin, he tightened his hands fiercely against your hips, pulling them closer to his eye level. You gasped as his mischievous fingertips hooked onto the newly-loosened waistband of your trousers, and pulled down ever so slightly. Before you could stop him, they slid inch-by-inch down your hips, revealing the top edge of your panties.  
  
"Huh," Jean blinked with interest, tilting his head to the side. "So _that's_ your color. Why don't you have a look at this, Marco?"  
  
Face burning with fury and embarrassment, you grabbed at his hands, struggling to pry them away before he could pull them down any further. Jean laughed at your panic. He was clearly teasing you, being the perverted moron that he was... and it was working! You glared at him. Skittish as you were right now, you were still a little reluctant to let either of the two boys take control and strip you of your most important garments...  
  
All of a sudden, Marco's arms swooped in from behind and enveloped you in a warm embrace. Tilting your chin upwards with a hand, he softly placed his lips against yours. It filled you with a pleasant warmth that settled your nerves, allowing you to relax..  
  
And yet... you were acutely aware of Jean taking full advantage of your distraction with Marco - by splaying his fingers along your hips and curving the tips of his fingers inwards. His lips began to trail light, tantalizing kisses that trailed from your ribs down to your navel. It was a gesture that did anything _but_ calm you down.  
  
The heat was unbearable now, leaving you in a daze. Your heart was pounding blood into your ears, and your breaths vented at rapid-fire pace. Every nerve was tingling with excitement, and at the anticipation of seeing what these two men had planned for you. Both of them noticed your reaction. Jean made eye contact with Marco, both signaling the other to make their move.  
  
You were pulled closer and closer to the bed. All prior fear and hesitation were starting to ebb away into irresistible excitement. Within seconds, Marco was perched on the edge of the mattress with you safely in his hold, close against his lap. Jean knelt in front of you, pulling your knees apart and granting himself access to draw even closer to your body.  
  
"Now..." he said with a playful smirk. "Let's get these clothes off, eh?"

  
You gulped and nodded, turning red as he began to remove your boots, one by one. The rest of the harness was quick to follow, leaving Jean free to pursue the zip of your trousers.  
  
"Don't forget," Marco reminded you gently, as he began to free you of your shirt, exposing your shoulders. "...if you want out of this at anytime... all you have to do is tell us to stop..."  
  
He reached up, and released your hair from its ties, letting it fall freely. All the while, Jean continued to pull, sliding your trousers away from your hips, down your thighs and along the length of your legs.   
  
You felt the first sensations of your body coming into raw, bare-skinned contact with another. It felt so strange and foreign, and yet it left you tingling, yearning for more. Marco's hands were burning hot against your shoulders, and Jean's rough grip began to fixate on the sensitive flesh of your thighs. With the two of them giving you this much attention, you could barely breathe, let alone think.   
  
"Don't..." You uttered, trembling in spite of yourself.  
  
Jean and Marco immediately froze, looking intently at you.  
  
Frantically, you shook your head at them, your voice a plaintive whimper. "...Don't ...don't stop..."  
  
There was a pause. The two men looked at each other, then grinned. With your permission, you were stripped down to your bra, and your panties.  
  
...Except, Jean's fingers were as deft with your undergarments as they had been with the harness. With barely a struggle, your bra was unfastened and left to cascade around your bare form. Inhaling sharply, you flew your arms up to cover your modesty, glaring fire and brimstone at Jean but making no further fuss.  
  
Both men paused suddenly. Your feminine curves, along with the vast canvas of naked skin, served as a feast for the eyes.  
  
Jean was absolutely shameless with the way he stared at you. "Huh... Nice." His eyes were filled with awe. "... _Very_ nice."  
  
Likewise, Marco breathed in his amazement. "...[First]... You look beautiful."  
  
Their admiration shot you to new levels of self-consciousness, embarrassment...and perhaps, even a bit of pride. Even so, you snapped at them a little. "Q-quit it, you two.... don't stare at me like that. It's embarrassing."   
  
You drifted your eyes askance towards the floor, still covering your chest protectively. "And don't spout that kind of crap... like, 'I'm beautiful' or anything."  
  
"Why not? It's the truth, silly!" Marco reassured you with a grin, hugging you close and hovering over your shoulder. "And don't be so nervous. Just take it easy, and let the two of us do the work. And trust me... Jean is _very_ good at what he does."  
  
 _...Which would be...?_ You gave both men an inquiring look, arching an eyebrow. Jean and Marco simply glanced at each other, wearing cryptic smiles. Clearly, that was for you to find out.   
  
Nonetheless, feeling reassured, you managed a smile back at him and relaxed your arms ever so slightly. You nodded with a blush. "...Okay."  
  
Jean, meanwhile, was still busy admiring you from head to toe, propping his elbow up on your thigh and resting his chin as though you were a piece of furniture. The cocky son-of-a-bitch.   
  
"I think you'll be surprised at how experienced Marco is at this sort of thing," he remarked, tracing a finger lazily across an expanse of soft, naked skin. "Although... I'm willing to bet that this is your first time, isn't it, [First]?"  
  
"Obviously! You don't have to rub it in, moron!" you snapped. One hand flew out to smack him on top of the head. He winced, eyes full of laughter.  
  
Meanwhile, Marco began to palm your shoulders, pressing inwards. "We don't have to go _that_ far today if you don't feel up to it," He reminded you amiably. "We'll just take it one small step at a time... starting with this..."  
  
Marco's hands moved further downwards, where his fingers suddenly planted firmly into your back, squeezing all of the tension of your sore, strained muscles. Your spine curved outwards. Pleasure began to flood over you like a wave, causing you to moan and shudder underneath his touch...  
  
All of a sudden, that wave became a spark, concentrated on the side of your throat. Jean was pressed in close, and his lips were buried against the sensitive surface of your neck. His rough, sinewy hands began to crawl up along the soft, malleable flesh of your thighs, climbing up your waist like a vine. Simultaneously, his lips began to trail sensuously down your neck, over the line of your collarbone, further and further down your unresisting body.  
  
"Wait, Jean...!" You uttered in heated, gasping breaths, startled by his actions. "What...what are you doing?!"  
  
Jean simply responded by kissing you deeply, engulfing your lips and filling you up with his tongue, leaving you breathless. As he broke away, he grinned at you with a hungry expression in his eyes.   
  
"Well... someone has to keep you warm on this side, don't they?" His voice was a low rumble vibrating deep within the insides of his chest.   
  
You could barely find the means nor the will to protest as he continued to blaze a line of deep, passionate kisses down your body, from the neck to the navel...and descending a little further. The air was starting to steam. You twitched and arched your spine, causing Marco to hum with pleasure as your backside pressed further against his lap.  
  
His hands began to travel down towards the small of your back, awakening the nerves of your lower body. Marco tenderly planted a kiss into the back of your neck. Leaning in close against your ear, he began to murmur softly once more.  
  
"Tell me, [First]... Are you enjoying this?" His lips made trails along your neck.  
  
Overcome with bliss, you could barely answer, instead uttering noises that were barely discernable. "Mm... Mm-hm..."  
  
You found yourself pinned in place as Jean held you by the hips, lowering himself down and pulling himself in closer so that he could deliver stinging, red-hot kisses along the inner surface of your thigh.   
  
"What did I tell you, Marco?" he smirked in between kisses. In between your legs. "This... could be the start of something beautiful."  
  
As desire and amazement welled up inside of you, you found yourself in complete agreement with him.  
  
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[continue scrolling for the optional ending 8D]  
  
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Lying flat on the floorboards, you opened your eyes blearily to the sound of someone shouting frantically into your ear.   
  
"[First]...! Can you hear me? [First]!"  
  
That voice sounded faded...and vaguely familiar. You struggled to pin it down, but unfortunately, you were more distracted by the fact that your head felt as though it had been hit by _a thousand flying bricks._   
  
Your eyelids fluttered. Two faces hovered over your fallen form, slowly sharpening into focus.   
  
It was Jean and Marco. Both of them were intent upon you with looks of worry and disbelief on their faces.   
  
It took you a while to realize that you were lying on the floor of the men's dormitories, right at the foot of the bunk-bed where Jean and Marco slept. Once you did, however, your senses suddenly snapped awake with horrific realization.  
  
... _Fucking hell._  
  
Without warning, you began writhing on the floor in a panic, struggling to sit up. Jean and Marco flinched in surprise.  
  
All three of you were fully dressed.  
  
"Oh hey!" Jean exclaimed, features breaking into grin at the sight of your conscious form. "She's awake! Looks like we don't need to call the medics after all."  
  
Marco was not the least bit consoled, looking absolutely sick with worry. "Jean! She's bleeding from the _nose!_ She could be suffering from massive head trauma, or something horrible like that!"  
  
"Nah, she's fine," Jean waved it off cheerfully and gazed intently as you propped yourself up. "Look at her, up and at 'em like a trooper! Good morning, sunshine! What the fuck happened to you?"  
  
Marco ignored him and grabbed you by the shoulders, holding you steady. "[First]!" he asked frantically. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head?"  
  
Dumbstruck, you stared at them both, unable to answer. Why? Because you were finally starting to remember - and realize - what had _really_ happened all this time.  
  
After messing around with Reiner's stash of gay pornography, you had slipped from the upper bunk, hit your head on the ground, and lost consciousness until Jean and Marco came in and found you knocked out cold on the floor. The rest of the story was absolutely _history._  
  
Your cheeks were flushed red, and your skin was covered with a light sheen of sweat. The visions of your most recent hallucination were fresh in your mind. To make matters worse, something hot and bright red was dripping from your nose onto your hand.   
  
_Oh God No._  
  
Jean noticed your odd behaviour, arching an eyebrow in confusion. "...[First]? ... Damn, girl. Are you alright? Snap out of it-"  
  
You _did_ snap out of it, in the most abrupt and frantic way possible. Throwing Marco's hands off, you scrambled up to your feet and flew out the open door before either of the two boys even had a chance to react. Neither of them had time to notice that your face was flushed as red as a tomato.  
  
"The hell's up with her?" Jean asked with a frown, staring after your disappearing form. "Seriously, I can't understand that chick sometimes..." He blinked and paused suddenly. "Hm? What's this?"  
  
A certain book was lying open and face down on the floor. The moment Jean picked it up and started flipping through the pages, it immediately flew out of his hands and hit the wall as though he had touched a live coal. Jean stared at it with the most disturbed expression Marco had ever seen.  
  
Looking at the book, the freckled boy immediately realized why. His face turned red as a beet. "Is... Is that Reiner's?!"  
  
"Who else could it belong to? It sure as hell ain't mine!" Jean snapped, running his hands restlessly through his hair. "Good God. Don't tell me [First] is into that kind of thing..."  
  
He let out an incredulous sigh, shaking his head at the very thought. "Well... at least it explains the nosebleed."  
  
\---  
  
As luck would have it, both Jean and Marco were happily sitting in your group at dinnertime, leaving you absolutely mortified. While the two of them engaged in lively banter with the usual group of girls you tended to hang out with, you kept your head hanging low and hidden from view. In fact, you were just about ready to bury your face a mile deep in your dinnerplate out of shame, simply because you couldn't _bear_ to look at either Jean or Marco without being reminded of... of...  
  
 _RAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!_  
  
Christa gazed at you with a look of mild concern as you began bashing your skull on the surface of the table. "Are you okay, [First]? You look a little on edge today."  
  
To say the least. You didn't even know how to answer her, and now your head hurt even more than before. Not enough to turn you into an amnesiac, however. God fucking damn it.  
  
You considered leaving dinner early to smother yourself in your pillow, when you heard a strange noise coming from Marco's end of the table.  
  
Mina Carolina was moaning shamelessly with pleasure in her seat. "Ohhhhh, that feels so nice... Yes... I want more... Give it to me hard... Harder... Oh God, just like that! Right there! Riiiiiight there-"  
  
You blanched, horrified. Marco was giving her a backrub, and smiling cheerfully all the while.  
  
"Feel better?" he asked, as kind and accommodating as ever. Mina was far too overwhelmed to answer, grinning contentedly like the cat that swallowed the canary.   
  
Sasha stared at them both with looks of awe. "Wow, Marco! You really know how to work those hands of yours! Hey! You know what, you should totally give [First] a massage!" She turned to you excitedly. "C'mon, [First]! You gotta try it out!"  
  
"I'll... I'll pass, thanks," you said weakly, shuffling away from them and doing your best to disregard the surprised looks on their faces.  
  
Inevitably, you found yourself travelling further to Jean's side of the table...  
  
A small bowl of cherries was resting on the table. Jean was hard at work, chewing and concentrating. Christa and Ymir were watching with the looks of utmost intent on their faces, while the muscles of his jaw and mouth shifted up and down. You frowned, not realizing immediately what was going on... and then-  
  
"Have a look for yourself!" Jean grinned with triumph, producing a pair of knotted cherry-stems from his mouth. Christa breathed in her amazement. Ymir looked moderately impressed.  
  
"Not bad, Kirschtein," the tall brunette remarked, grinning slyly. "I take it it's one of your special hidden talents?"  
  
"You could call it that, yeah," Jean remarked sheepishly, shrugging a little. "It's really just a matter of using your tongue. But a skill like this is rather useless, don't you think?"  
  
Ymir curved her lips back into a knowing sneer. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. That tongue of yours can be used for plenty of things, instead of just mouthing off..." Her voice trailed off in an enigmatic fashion.  
  
Jean frowned, raising an inquiring brow. "Hm, like... what?"  
  
"I know! I know!" Christa piped up, much to Ymir's shock. "Tongues are good for kissing! That's what Jean is good at!" She smiled brightly, so full of pride at the extent of her worldly knowledge.  
  
Ymir looked a little flustered, eyes drifting discreetly to the side. "...Yeah... Kissing. Exactly what I meant..."  
  
You watched all of this with twitching nerves and a bright red face, not knowing how much more of this you were able to take.   
  
Jean and Marco both noticed your unusual behaviour over dinnertime, and trailed after you to voice their concern.  
  
"Looks like you hit your head a little too hard back there, didn't you?" Jean remarked. His voice was teasing, but his eyes were sympathetic. "Are you going to at least tell us what you were doing in our dorm?"  
  
You answered him in a flat voice, stubbornly avoiding eye contact with either of them. "No."  
  
It was bad enough that Jean was prying you with questions, but Marco's never-ending concern for your well-being didn't help matters. At all.  
  
"[First]... You really need to see a medic about that hit to the head. I'm really worried about that nosebleed you had earlier," he told you, trying his damndest to get a good look at you while you kept turning away. "Here, your face looks a little red. Let me feel your forehead-"  
  
"NO!" You yelled, flustered beyond words and flinching under Marco's touch. "I'm fine! I'm just in a bad mood right now! Leave me alone! _...Please."_  
  
You added the last word in a weak and pathetic voice, unable to put up your usual front of toughness after the hallucination you experienced today. God... how in the world were you going to look at the two of them the same way, after all that you'd seen? It was just so wrong, so inappropriate, and yet...  
  
...you stared at the two of them furtively over your shoulder, gazing at them up and down with a look of perverse longing. ... _t could totally happen._  
  
"A little tense, are we?" Jean stated, tilting his head to the side. "You should get someone to help you with that."  
  
Argh! NO IT CAN'T! And it most definitely WILL not! Never! ... Well maybe in your dreams. **AGHHHHH!** Desperate to flush those oh-so-tempting images away from your brain, you continued to run off down the path while Jean and Marco chased after you. The former teased you mercilessly while the latter fussed over your health.  
  
Unbeknownst to all three of you, Christa and Sasha stood together on the path, staring after you with the most wistful, envious looks on their faces.  
  
"[First]... That girl really has no idea how lucky she is," Christa remarked, smiling faintly. "I can't help but feel a little jealous."  
  
"What, to have two boys like Jean and Marco at her beck and call?" Sasha asked, grinning wryly alongside. "Yeah... no freaking kidding. ...She really is a lucky girl."  
  
\---End of Lime 8D---


End file.
